


A Stolen Moment

by LadyIsabella



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur can’t talk in sentences...He is too love drunk!, Control Kink, Cowboys in Love, Dirty Talk, Edging, Good Boy Arthur Morgan, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Sappy Sweetness!, Teasing, The devil made me do it!, handjobs, mild dom/sub tones, touch kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 14:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19975294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIsabella/pseuds/LadyIsabella
Summary: Dutch and Arthur head back to Colm’s abandoned hideout to have some time alone in private, away from prying eyes. Arthur is touch starved and any slight touch from Dutch has him ready to blow!





	A Stolen Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think folks! :) Comments and Kudos make my day!

Colter - 1899 

“Jesus Dutch...give me a...Mmm..” Arthur’s half-assed protest was interrupted as his lover pushed him up against the rough wooden wall of one of the shacks. They’d come back to the abandoned site near Colter ostensibly to check for any leftover supplies or weapons. In truth they had come to get some alone time. 

As the wandering, ring clad hands demonstrated as they strayed over the front of his jeans to the button fly. “Mm...Dutch I...” 

“You’re hard, Arthur, already?” A voice, dripping with mirth and confidence sounded by Arthur’s ear. Dutch grinned, “Aren’t you a little old for so quick a reaction?” He teased, palming the hard flesh through the rough denim. 

“I...I ain’t that old,” Arthur protested, with a smirk, then a groan when Dutch pressed down hard. “Shit...Younger ‘an you!” He managed weakly, his heart thumping in his chest. 

Dutch smirked and kissed slowly over the stubble on his jaw until he reached Arthur’s lips. He whispered softly, a tone in it that made Arthur swoon, “And you still ain’t learned control, son...Maybe you need reminding...” 

“D-Dutch...it’s damn cold here! We’ll free if we strip,” Arthur protested weakly. He didn’t want to stop! Far from it. Just...well, he didn’t want to freeze his cock off either! He was rather attached to it! In more ways than one. Arthur couldn’t help but give a soft laugh at his own inner joke. 

“Amusing you am I?” Dutch said, his hand briefly tightening over Arthur’s cock. “I’ll warm you up son, don’t you worry. You got faith in me, right?”

Arthur looked at his mentor and nodded without pause, “Always, Dutch.” 

“Good lad!” Dutch’s hand slipped inside his jeans, making him wince slightly at the icy touch of cold fingers on his hard and hot cock. “So warm boy...” He teased, whispering the words, like the Devil himself, in Arthur’s ear. “My good boy...” 

Ring clad fingers stroked over hot flesh, fire and ice combining for a moment or so, enough time for Arthur to bit his lip so hard he drew blood in an attempt not to groan aloud. 

“Turn around, Arthur...hands on the wall...” Dutch said suddenly. 

Arthur blinked and focussed on him, releasing his lip slowly. “What?” He said, confused. 

Dutch stepped back, one pace, though to Arthur it felt like a mile. He caught himself reaching out briefly before he slammed his hands back on the wall and blushed. He was a man for Christ sake. A grown ass man. Not some fumbling, desperate adolescent! 

“Turn...around...” Dutch repeated, stroking his moustache with a smirk. 

This time Arthur obeyed without protest. He had no idea what Dutch had planned. 

Did he ever? 

But he knew it would be good. Dutch always made it good...even if he drew it out so much so that Arthur was crying by the end of it. He would always come back to Dutch...always. 

He would kill for him. 

He would die for him. 

He would follow Dutch into the very heart of hell if he asked. 

And Arthur knew...that he might well ask that one day. 

Arthur stared at the rough, half-frosted wall, his breath coming in pearly clouds before his face. Time seemed to slow as he strained to listen for any sign of movement from Dutch. 

For half a second he was worried that he’d just leave him here, the ultimate tease. This feeling grew with every second that passed...until finally...

“I can almost feel you thinking, Arthur,” Dutch whispered as he pressed up close behind him. His voice, soft and honeyed, close to his ear. His lips, warm, despite the cold -even the weather bowed before Dutch it seemed- and his hands slowly going to Arthur’s belt. “You’re my boy, always...my good boy...I’d never hurt you, you know that right?”

“C-course Dutch...” Arthur whispered, leaning his head back onto Dutch’s shoulder, desperate for his touch. 

“My good boy...” Dutch grinned and slowly trailed his hands up, under Arthur’s warm coat, under his vest, his shirt, to touch his warm skin. The difference of cold hands his warm stomach made Arthur jump a little. “You’ve grown into a man under my eyes, Arthur...from a scrawny boy filled with anger and loss...to a strong, handsome...outlaw of my design.” 

His hands settled over Arthur’s chest, Dutch’s own pressed to his back. He sighed softly and kissed the nape of Arthur’s neck, tasting the salt he found there. 

“Yours...” Arthur whispered, thankful he was facing away so that the other did not see his blushes. 

“Indeed,” Dutch said, smiling against his skin. His hands slid down over Arthur’s stomach, following the trail of sandy hair to button’s on his pants. Strong, agile fingers made sort work of them and then, cold to the touch, fingers were on Arthur’s already hard cock. 

“Ugh...” Arthur groaned softly, his head pressed now to the wood before him as Dutch shifted. The cold on hot once again made him shudder. His cock was hot and heavy in Dutch’s hand, the rings icy, his fingers just a drop warmer. 

“Shh...shh...” Dutch murmured softly. “That’s my boy, that’s it...just relax...” He slowly started to stroke Arthur’s cock then chuckled softly, “Ah...but I forget, we need something else, don’t we?”

“Dutch?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve come prepared...I always have a plan, always...” 

His hand suddenly left Arthur entirely. Arthur himself could hear movement, and feel it too, as Dutch searched for something. He dragged in a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, focussing on the cold frost from the wood on his forehead. 

He groaned aloud when Dutch’s fingers were suddenly back on him, this time oiled slicked and gentle with it. “Always carry gun oil, lad, isn’t that what I told you?”

Arthur smirked at that and nodded, “Yeah...I...Ugh...remember. An outlaw...must always have his guns well oiled...and in...working order...Oh...shit...” 

As he had spoken Dutch’s fingers encircled him and slowly began to stroke him to full hardness. He smirked against Arthur’s neck then said softly, “You can finish when you want..but...I would recommend we pull these down a little...” He chuckled and with his free hand shoved Arthur’s pants down to his knees. Dutch’s body shielded him from the cold wind. “If you finish in your pants, it will be uncomfortable...and we cannot wash anything in this damn weather! I don’t want my boy to be uncomfortable...” 

For that he was grateful; not that the thought had occurred to him until Dutch said it! Now he realised it was true. That would have been bloody annoying, sore and irritating. Plus someone, Micah most likely, would have noticed and made his life hell. 

He groaned softly as Dutch’s fingers, gifted and strong, went to work on him with more vigour. “Good boy...my good boy...” he whispered, his moustache tickling Arthur’s ear as he crooned softly. 

Arthur felt heat pooling in his belly. It was often quick with Dutch...Not because he wanted it to be, but because his feelings for Dutch were so intense. Even the most gentle, careless touch from Dutch; a pat on the back, a handshake...set his blood aflame.

An intimate touch, like this, was like an explosion of dynamite going off in his very centre. 

“Ugh...D-Dutch...I’m...” 

“It’s okay...It’s okay, Arthur...Hush now...just...just feel,” his fingers tightened about Arthur’s cock and he increased the stroke of his hand, his free hand closed over Arthur’s on the wall. He gave his hand a squeeze, locking their fingers. “You and me Arthur...together, until the end...” 

Arthur squeezed back and nodded, “Always...always D-Dutch...until the end...”

Dutch’s hand, the one around his cock, tightened briefly then focussed and stroked harder, faster, drawing Arthur to his completion. “Come on, son...Let me hear you...” 

“Dutch...Oh...Ugh!” Arthur saw stars, felt the earth move, and suddenly he was flying as his body lurched in climax. His release spilled onto the frozen and snowy dirty below, though some stained Dutch’s hand, his golden rings and the cuff of his coat. 

“My boy, my boy,” Dutch crooned softly in his ear, slowing his stroke until he finally stopped. He gently brought his stained hand up to Arthur’s mouth and whispered, “Clean me up, son...there’s a good lad.” 

Arthur, still half gasping from pleasure, drunk on it, lost to it, obeyed, his tongue tasting himself, mixed with the salty taste of sweat from Dutch’s own skin. He swallowed and then pressed a kiss to Dutch’s hand, smiling sleepily.

Dutch chuckled, low and deep, then hastily set about pulling up Arthur’s pants. “We wouldn’t want you to free your cock off, would we lad? That would be a right shame.” 

“Nah...nah, Dutch, we wouldn’t,” Arthur replied, laughing softly. He turned and looked up at his reason for being. Slowly, to give Dutch a chance to stop him, he reached out and cupped his cheek. “Dutch...I...” 

Dutch covered his hand with his own then leant in and pressed a hot, quick kiss to Arthur’s lips. “I know, my boy, I know. Now...we had best get back. Before we freeze and before Miss. Grimshaw sends out the dogs to find us!” He laughed, clapped Arthur on the shoulder, then turned and strolled back, as if nothing had happened, to The Count. 

Arthur paused for a moment, taking a breath, then he grinned and followed. 


End file.
